Sprout Ch. 07

All characters are 18 years or older.

***

I ran as fast as I could past all the big houses on sorority row. Not like I could see them with my eyes filled with tears. I had to gasp to breathe in between sobs as I pushed my body to the limit.

I still couldn't believe the emotional rollercoaster that Mackenzie and Erica had taken me on. One minute I think I'm falling in love, the next I'm being purple nurpled and spanked, having a rubber chicken shoved up my ass and getting what I thought was a blowjob from Mac that turned out to be...Fuck, I can't even think about it!

I honestly felt like a rubber band that had been stretched too many times -- one or two pulls away from snapping entirely. I was no longer in control of anything. Anywhere I turned, Mac was winning -- taking my best friend, ruining my grades, hurting my body, destroying my ego.

But somehow my cock still got hard every time I was around her. And no matter how much I hated myself for it, I couldn't resist her seductions. I was like a little fly mesmerized as the big spider wrapped me in her web and slowly ate away at me. And now another spider had joined her!

As I ran through campus, I increasingly noticed the weird slippery sensation of the pink tights inside my sneakers and the strange squeeze of Erica's bra on my sides and chest. The only part that felt almost normal were the new panties as they didn't have a thong and the larger crotch could actually hold my soft penis.

Thinking of the panties made me remember the word emblazoned on my ass. S-L-U-T. In giant hot pink capital letters. SLUT.

I had done so many new things with Mac I'd almost lost count. But the common theme throughout was that I always gave in and did what she wanted. Did my sexual willingness around her actually make me a slut? Not to mention I was now having sexual relations with two girls at the same time! I really was a slut.

I ran past the student union and was reminded of the first time I saw Erica, sitting in a booth watching me worship Mackenzie's feet and legs in public. If Erica was Mac's bisexual slut, how did that work with her and Greg's relationship? Would he consider that cheating? Maybe it was something I could use to unmask Mackenzie and show Greg the awful two-timing person he had fallen for?

Oh, but Erica...despite the double cross, I still had immense feelings for her. My attraction to Mac was more exclusively sexual, in a sort of strange submissive way. For some reason I couldn't explain, I got off on letting her tease and dominate me. It was humiliating, yet I couldn't resist.

But Erica was different. I thought of the scent of her sweater over my head, how it made me feel aroused and safe, even after she had turned the tables on me. She said she was a great actress, but I was sure she felt something too. If Mac was an infatuation, Erica was a straight up crush!

My stomach wrenched. How could I fall for two bad girls?!

I turned a corner into my apartment complex huffing and sweating. Upon arriving at my unit, I pushed open the door and saw Greg in the living room playing Halo.

"Yo, dude," he said without looking up.

"Hey man," I panted. "I need a shower real bad [gasp], I'll catch up with you in a bit."

I strode straight past him and into the bathroom. Besides the sweat I wanted nothing more than to wash off the filth on my crotch.

I quickly stripped down. With only Erica's underwear left, I looked in the mirror. Seeing the ensemble made me immediately think of Erica standing in front of Mac in the same lingerie. My dick started to get hard. I hated to admit it, but her panties and bra fit me way better than Mac's. Her body was thicker and curvier than mine, but I couldn't help noticing how I looked even more girly in these. Not to mention, the stockings made my legs look more shapely and less masculine by covering up my hair.

I turned on the shower to warm up and as I turned back toward the mirror I had a dirty thought. I reached in a drawer and grabbed two washcloths. Then I balled them up and stuck them in Erica's bra cups.

My cock immediately throbbed. I actually looked a little like Erica! I thought about the feel and taste of her kiss. And the way she made me melt into her hugs. A wave of guilt came over me -- everything about this was wrong! But it was nothing compared to the tsunami of arousal that consumed me.

Damnit, I need to get off!

The shower was clearly the best option, so I quickly put away the washcloths and stripped out of the bra, panties and stockings. I was careful to hang them on the bathroom door hook as I felt compelled to take good care of them. In contrast, my jeans and t-shirt were balled up on the floor.

I jumped in the shower, soaped up my palm, and went to work. It felt good to touch myself and think about Erica's body, her tits, her lips, her surprising strength...

As I got closer to the edge, my stomach began to flutter. Something was missing. What was it?

Despite my massive arousal, I felt a knot form in my gut and the urge to cum started to subside. I stroked even faster, but a sense of fear came over me, holding me back. Then I realized the problem:

I no longer had Mackenzie's black socks.

For some reason my brain wouldn't let me break her rule about only masturbating in her socks. Like I was subconsciously scared to cross her. I stopped stroking just as a noise startled me.

Knock, knock.

The door abruptly opened.

"Hey man, just gonna grab my toothbrush," said Greg as he stepped around the door.

"Okay," I said automatically.

"Jesus, Mac," I heard Greg mutter under his breath, then he spoke louder, "What the...?"

I heard him fiddling for a second more, then the door closed. It all happened so fast I hadn't fully discerned the implications of the brief encounter. I stuck my head out from behind the shower curtain and looked around. I wasn't sure exactly what I would find, then I realized it was what I didn't find. Erica's underwear was gone!

I suddenly realized that Greg's reaction was him assuming that Mackenzie left her stuff there by accident, and that I would have seen her intimate apparel. And then he saw the giant SLUT on the ass, and he was even more surprised and annoyed.

And then it dawned on me that I had lost them -- and that Mackenzie would fucking kill me if she found out! Which she would as soon as Greg shared his find with her.

I'm dead!

My cock had gone completely soft by now. My knees bent and I slowly sat down in the shower, letting the water stream down on me. I felt almost catatonic. I hated that I had been so careless. But I also hated that I had acquiesced to wearing them in the first place. I couldn't do anything right.

Fuuuuuck!

Eventually I managed to get up and wash myself. The whole time it felt like someone punched me in the stomach. I got out and dried off, then wrapped myself in the towel and walked across to my room.

What could I do? Should I just wait for Mac to find out and take my chances? Or maybe I should try to contact her and let her know?

It seemed so weird and shameful -- first to be afraid, and then to even be considering these options. But I knew I was taking a big risk by doing nothing. I had an idea.

I threw on some pajamas, grabbed my phone and walked out to join Greg in the living room.

"Um, hey Greg," I said with an unintended squeak. "I need to ask Mackenzie a question about a Shakespeare lecture I missed, can you give me her phone number?"

"Hey dude," Greg answered. "First, I wanted to apologize that she left her underwear in the bathroom. I'm going to talk to her about that. I realize it's pretty gross. And you can ask her in person, she'll be here in like 30 minutes to spend the night."

My heart immediately sank. I was dead.

"Um, it's no big deal, really," I managed to say. "But y'know I want to make sure she brings her notes so maybe you can give me her number anyway. I'll just text her."

"Sure," Greg said, then listed off her digits as I typed it into my contacts.

I sat down on the couch and carefully typed out a note:

S: Sorry for texting you. Greg gave me your number so I could ask a question about Shakespeare. I have a problem and I wanted to let you know ASAP because I know it goes against our agreement. When I got home I took a shower. Greg walked in to get something and saw the clothes hanging on the back of the door. He must have assumed they were yours because he took them. Now I have no way to fulfill our agreement. I'm really sorry this happened. I need your help to fix it.

I re-read the draft text a couple times. I don't know why but I felt compelled to speak cryptically about the panties, like I was afraid someone else might read it. Finally, I sighed and clicked send. Then I felt a pang of fear and sent one more message:

S: PS please don't hurt me.

I felt pathetic adding that, like I was admitting I was at her mercy. But I was. And I didn't want another rubber chicken shoved up my ass. I prayed she would see it as a fluke and let me off easy.

"Hey Sprout, want to play a game before Mac gets here?" asked Greg, startling me. "We're also playing some games later if you want to join us."

I looked up guiltily from my phone. Lying to Greg about the text felt wrong. And I definitely didn't want to sit around the living room with him and Mackenzie.

"Um, thanks, I think I'm just going to catch up on homework in my room," I said as I stood up.

"All good, dude," Greg answered, then his tone changed, and he added, "You know, to be sure we really don't mind you hanging out with us. For what it's worth Mac really likes you and feels bad when she makes you feel like a third wheel. She said she feels guilty and has been trying to think of ways to make it up to you. She's really thoughtful, actually."

That two-faced conniving bitch!

"Um, that's really nice to hear," I managed to say with a straight face, "But I really do have some work to catch up on. My TA gave me a chance to re-write a paper I totally botched. We can all hang out together another time."

"Sounds good," Greg said, turning back to his game.

I walked back to my room and closed the door. Then I shoved my face in my pillow and unleashed a torrent of muffled curse words. I was furious about Mac's manipulation of Greg, but also frustrated by the whole situation. I felt like I was trapped in the trash compactor in Star Wars with the walls closing in -- except I had no C-3PO to call. For a while, I thought Erica might be that person, but -- Erica!

I suddenly remembered that she had sent me an email of the paper outline for my re-write. I really did have a lot of work to do, and I didn't want to waste the weekend.

I sat down at the computer and pulled up my university email account. The message she had sent me right after we finished discussing was at the top of my inbox. I opened it, expecting a bullet list, and was surprised to see a paragraph:

Hi Sprout,

I wanted to let you know that I'm really sorry for what's about to happen, or what probably already happened by the time you read this. It was all her idea and I tried to stop her, but she has a way of setting her mind to stuff and as her friend I feel like I have to play along. Anyway, I had a really good time talking to you today and hope you can forgive me. If I won the bet, I suspect you probably already have ;-) And if I didn't, well, know that I do think it's beautiful and that I'm probably in my room right now trying to imagine what I missed out on...

XOXO

Erica

PS see attached the paper outline we discussed

PPS if none of this makes sense, then excuse my rambling

I sat back in my chair and sighed. My pajama pants resembled an obscene circus tent below. Except it looked like a giraffe was stuck under it, pushing its neck up over and over trying to force its way out.

Half of me wanted to believe what she wrote, that she did like me and did want to feel my long penis inside her. But the rest of me remembered her saying she was a good actress and out of my league. I was so confused!

Girls like her and Mac had never paid attention to me before. I lived in a parallel universe from the hot, popular chicks. And frankly I had been content that I would never get with them, it just wasn't meant to be. Or at least that's what I told myself.

But now, given a taste, it was the only thing I could think about. I desperately wanted to feel my dick buried in them, poking them deep down, making them writhe and tremble, squirting inside them...knowing they got off because of me!

She had called my cock beautiful! Multiple times!

I pulled my pants down and let it flick up straight. I looked at its rigid shape and bulging veins. I had never thought of anything about myself as beautiful. But she did!

I don't know what came over me, but I grabbed my phone and took a zoomed in picture of it that showed every little detail.

Then I closed my eyes and stroked, imagining Erica's big muscular ass lowering down, her vagina plunging straight onto my pole, pulling me inside her slick hole...

And then I stopped. I remembered Mackenzie's words:

Any time you want...but only ever in my socks.

I was suddenly consumed by guilt and trepidation. I tried stroking faster, but I lost the beat and couldn't finish. Out of fear. She had probably found the socks by now on her bedroom carpet. Somehow, I felt like Mac would know if I broke her condition.

Then I heard a commotion and voices through the wall, and I knew she was here. Any moment she could barge into my room and check that I was following her rules. It was hopeless. My penis became soft and limp.

With a sigh, I pulled back up my pants. I checked my phone to see if Mac responded to my text (she hadn't), then I turned to my computer. I thought about writing back to Erica, but what would I say? She obviously knew I was attracted to her and had been falling for her, but what if it was all another scam to set me up? Instead, I clicked to open the file with the paper outline. After a few seconds, Word opened and I saw the document she had been preparing as we spoke.

I decided it would ease my mind to have some work to focus on, so I immersed myself in writing the paper. Her notes were so good that my words seemed to flow naturally and in no time, I had six decently written pages that actually made sense. In spite of my mistrust of her, I was impressed and appreciative. I flipped back to the email and replied:

Erica-

Thank you for helping me with my paper. It turned out pretty good.

Sprout

I hovered my mouse over the 'Send' button for about 30 seconds, and finally reconsidered and added:

PS Maybe this will help your imagination. ;-)

And in a fit of impropriety, I clicked over to my iCloud folder, dragged over the picture of my throbbing cock and clicked Send.

I immediately had a falling sensation, as if I had stepped off a cliff backward and plummeted through the air with no idea where the bottom was. Had I just taken her bait?

Then I realized I was on my university email account. I probably just violated the code of student conduct, sexual harassment policy, IT policy, and God knows what else. Shit! What if the girls wanted to get me in trouble?

For a moment, I thought maybe Erica's note was similarly inappropriate. Then I re-read it and realized she had been intentionally vague so only I would understand it. I'm such an idiot!

But I knew there was nothing I could do. And by then it was pretty late. I heard Greg and Mac talking in his bedroom, so I made a quick run to the bathroom to brush my teeth and pee. Then I dashed back across the hall, thankfully avoiding any contact with my tormentor. I laid in bed, took one last look at my phone to see if she responded (nope), then I drifted off to sleep.

***

Click!

I heard a sound and opened my eyes to see shadows cast on the ceiling by my reading lamp. I tried to sit up and something held my head down. My eyes opened wide, and I could see a hand was over my mouth, clamped down tight. I was able to turn slightly to the side and my whole body jerked.

Mackenzie was sitting in my desk chair next to my bed!

When our eyes met, she raised her index finger and pointed toward Greg's room, then held it perpendicular to her lips and shook her head slowly.

She wants me to be quiet to not wake up Greg!

Her other hand slowly lifted from my mouth, and I quickly propped myself up on my elbow and glared at her. She was wearing one of Greg's cut off grey football t-shirts with a big XXL on the chest. I noticed how her huge tits pushed out the fabric so the bottom of the shirt hung a few inches in front of her bare tummy, like a table cloth that barely fit. I glanced down and saw form-fitting grey and white Calvin Klein briefs, and below that her tan crossed legs.

Staying silent, she reached behind her back and felt around for a second. Then her hand came around and she was holding Erica's underwear that I had lost. I sighed with relief and noticed her smirk with satisfaction.

Her other hand gestured for me to get up and stand in front of her. I pushed back my covers and got up. Then she moved two fingers in a downward motion and bobbed her head a couple times.

She wants me to get undressed so I can put back on the lingerie!

By now my cock was hard, but I didn't care if I showed it to her. I was just relieved she had gotten my message. I quickly stripped off my pajamas and stood naked in front of her.

Instead of handing me the pink undergarments, she just sat there looking me up and down. My initial indifference to being naked in front of her began to wear off and I felt self-conscious. My posture sunk, and my hips began to draw back.

Then she leaned forward, and her hand moved out toward me. Her finger touched the tip of my penis and pressed down slowly until my rigid pole pointed down toward the floor. My breaths grew short. She held it like that for a few seconds, then the finger suddenly slipped off and my cock flicked back up, bouncing a couple times until it pointed back at her. My whole body shivered.

As I recovered from the momentary elation, I noticed she had uncrossed her legs and was holding up a hand with one of the pink stockings. Her other hand pointed at her knee.

She wants me to put my foot on her knee like Erica did!

I propped my foot where she directed, and she placed the scrunched up stocking over my toes. She pushed up slightly, causing my heel to lift, then she gently slid the stocking up my leg.

When she got to the top, she ran her finger under the elastic band to make sure it was tight and even, then she stroked the top of my thigh with the back of her hand, almost lovingly. To my shock, her other hand reached out and cupped my balls that hung exposed under my upraised leg. I trembled and looked her in the eye, uncertain what she would do.

Her lips curled into a strangely sympathetic smile. I thought she might hurt me, but instead her fingers softly caressed and kneaded my scrotum. I had never felt anything like that before -- it felt so damn good! My penis twitched up and down at the new sensation.

Then she let go, pushed my foot off her knee, and pointed at her other knee. I raised my other foot and she put on the stocking, stroking my thigh again at the top. Only this time instead of grabbing my balls, she reached a hand around to my ass cheek and took hold. Her hand was big enough to grasp the whole thing and I luxuriated as she squeezed and massaged it. It seemed like she was noticing more about me than just my big penis!